It took a few seconds for Lance to compose himself. He tried to maintain a stoic and composed look, but the joy overwhelmed him. A big smile appeared on his face with a sharp gasp and his eyes began to shimmer as a thin layer of tears covered them. Suddenly he felt his feet leave the ground. Looking down he saw Ben lifting him up while cheering. Though it startled him, it was hardly surprising. Ben’s days working at the farm had strengthened his body and transformed his once slender and long body into a powerful one, able to lift Lance with ease. A great feat as Lance himself had a heavy and stout body, though it was underdeveloped due to his relatively inactive life. Far from the potential that his father had shown in his younger days.

  Professor Arclight’s face retained a faint smile. His eyes dotting around as if trying to take in all the information. He would glance at different people, sizing them up for just a second, and then immediately move to another person or object. Lance’s sisters were first to approach him, with Merilyn first in line. Lance’s eyes caught a glimpse of this and he turned to watch the interaction more closely. His first impression of the professor had left him uneasy. He was curious to see if others would show any sign of this uncanny feeling as well.

  Professor Arclight’s eyes scanned the girls in the same fashion. Then suddenly his demeanor changed, his smile turned warmer and greeted them with a soft bow, an act that flustered them. This only added to Lance’s feeling of unease, it was as if the professor had begone acting like one of those charming princes found in those old story books he was read to while growing up. He was always a bit confused about how most of the girls loved this kind of figure and character. He dismissed this weird feeling towards the professor, linking the feeling to his own social ineptitude and lack of knowledge about how to be a proper gentleman.

  After a great deal talking and precise flattery by the professor, he excused himself and walked towards Lance. At this point the whole novelty and excitement of it all had been drowned out by an overwhelming desire to retreat to solitude. Lance was not used to being in the center of attention. In fact, the experience of being celebrated by the very people who always imagined thought little of him stirred a deep confusion in him that quickly turned into a headache. As if he didn’t want to believe that he wasn’t a complete outcast.

  After noticing the professor, Lance quickly stood up out of respect and anticipated the coming words anxiously. Professor Arclight quickly spotted his nervousness; his eyes immediately drawn to Lance fidgeting with his hands and cracking each of his fingers. Swiftly he put up a bright smile, his eyes widened, and closed the distance between them in a few steps. He placed both of his hands on his shoulder and said “My dear boy, we shall soon be leaving for Aether Reach. The Road is long, and I imagine you need all the time you can get to feel at home there. Do not worry about anything. I and other members of the college will make sure you find your footings quickly. I imagine I will be staying in your beautiful town for a day or too. You obviously need to pack your luggage and say good byes to your family. But don’t worry, you will soon be able to visit them again during the Scantofrost holidays.”

  He tapped his shoulders again, then turned towards the crowd. There were many children now shouting and asking for a show of magic. Mages and wizards, even clerics that could actually invoke the words of the gods were rather rare in those parts.

  The professor smiled and raised his hands, pointing them towards the air. His face contorted, as if he was lifting a very heavy stone. His forearms were bulky and strong, as if he was rather a warrior than a teacher of magic. The air grew colder and lance could feel a strange attraction towards where the professor was pointing his hands. He felt the thin fuzz on his face being pulled. When he looked at the crowd he felt more at ease as they seem to also have held their breath in awe and excitement. Suddenly a flash of purple light startled all. Many screamed and yelled. Then candy rained over the heads of the children. It was a chaotic scene with the children running around and collecting as much candy as they can. Once again Lance looked at the professor. He did not look amused, instead he saw in him the same silent observation.

  Merilyn grabbed Lance’s hand and said “You have heard what the professor said. We will help you pack at once”. Even though she still retained her optimistic and excited look, with a hint of pink on her cheeks from the interaction with Arclight, there could be sadness observed in her eyes. “Where is Mother? She wouldn’t have missed this whole ordeal.” Asked Lance. “Oh, she has gone with father to buy you some gifts. They should be back any time now. Poor mother was both excited and heartbroken.” Answered Merilyn. Her face also turned into one of sadness. Lance felt a sense of guilt fill him. He felt selfish for abandoning his family. His thought specially went to his father. He always felt that he didn’t make him proud enough. Not enough to make up for the immense love he had for Lance.

  A bit later he and his sister went inside. Lance discovered that they have already prepared his suitcase and spread out his many articles of clothing on the ground. Lance stared at them with apathy. For some reason he never did care much for his clothing nor for his appearance. Though this made him more anxious as he felt that he would look too unkept for a place like Aether Reach. Lyla, one of the younger sisters picked up a black and a red shirt, bringing them up to him with her signature bright smile, something that always made Lance slightly jealous as he believed his own smile to be hideous. “Well, which one will you be taking with you?” Said Lyla with a soft and soothing voice. Despite being younger than Merilyn, she sounded much warmer, and more mature in age.

  “I don’t know, and I care very little for which article of clothing I shall take.” Responded Lance in a harsh voice. He didn’t even look at her while uttering the words as his mind was occupied with many thoughts. Lyla’s face contorted; it was as if Lance’s dismissive words had cut deep. Lance looked up at her and could immediately see the effect of his words on her, but he didn’t say anything. He felt a deep sting in his heart from his dismissive attitude and how it clearly affected Lyla, and it hurt more as something deep within him didn’t allow him to comfort her. “I am very tired; I think I will just go to bed.” Said Lance. Even though Lance was tired, the main reason he wanted to leave for his room was to hide from the gaze of his sisters. He laid on his bed, and despite being very tired, it took him an hour to fall asleep.

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  The morning light shined through the curtains and illuminated Lance’s rather messy room. A big portion of his room was occupied by various wooden chests filled with glassware stained with many different chemicals. Lance felt a hand running through his hair. And as he slowly opened his eyes, he was greeted with the warm gaze of his father. His face showed clear sign of age, and it was like a more robust and powerful mirror to Lance’s. Despite his age, his body was stout and strong.

  “Wake up my son, a new day has come.” He said to Lance, his voice warm and deep. Lance slowly got up and sat at the edge of the bed. “Good morning father.” Responded Lance.

  “I feel like something is troubling you, Lance. You do not have the same glow in your voice.”

  “I never did have any glow in it, not as much as Lyla.” Said Lance. The self-deprecating statement greatly hurt his father. He shook his head in disapproval and said to him “Do not utter those words. I do not like my son to be insulted in that way. Specially by himself. Now, get up. There is much to do today, and much farewells to say.” He put his hands under Lance’s arms and picked him. He looked at the pile of glassware at the corner and said to Lance “You must also do something about the mess you made experimenting.” Lance, now remembering his attempt at synthesizing Demon Blood, almost screams in panic “Has anyone touched that pile?”

  “No, but why were you so worried about anyone going near it?”

  “Until properly deactivated, those chemicals are extremely toxic and corrosive. I would have to make a bath later to soak them for a while.”

  “Well, you better get on with it, I expect you to clean it up before you depart. Though I will miss your little experimentations. Did you actually managed to make, whatever is that you wanted to make?”

  “No, my current setup lets in too much air. I can’t seal it properly.” Lance’s father patted him on the back and went to the door. “Breakfast is ready, come when you are done with your clean up.”

  The failed synthesis of dragon’s blood had left behind a bubbling, iridescent residue. His father's stern reminder still echoing in his ears, Lance reluctantly gathered the marked stoneware bowls and set to work. Without the practiced precision of a master, he measured out a blend of dissolved salts and powdered basilisk ash, stirring the volatile mix until the menacing green tint shifted into a muted turquoise glow.

  He wiped down the cluttered bench, his movements hurried and unrefined as he swept away the scattered glass and lingering traces of the experiment. When the neutralized waste was finally sealed in a marked container, the act carried an unspoken finality.

  In that quiet moment, as he surveyed the cleared workspace, a subtle thought lingered—this room, his familiar haven of experiments and missteps, might soon be nothing more than a memory he would never again revisit.

  The final moments of packing passed in a haze of activity. Lance's mother had returned with a parcel wrapped in simple brown paper, tied with twine—a new set of journals bound in leather, each page crisp and unmarked. "For your new discoveries," she'd said, her eyes both proud and pained.

  As midday approached, a peculiar silence fell over the house. Lance stood in his laboratory one last time, the clean workspace now looking foreign without its usual clutter of experiments. His fingers traced the worn edge of the workbench where countless hours had passed in solitary pursuit of knowledge.

  A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Lyla stood in the doorway, the black and red shirts from yesterday folded neatly in her arms.

  "I packed both," she said, her voice tentative. "I thought... perhaps you might need options."

  Lance felt the sting of yesterday's dismissal hanging between them. "Lyla, I'm—" The words caught in his throat. Apologies had never come easily to him.

  "It's all right," she said, crossing the room to place the shirts in his open suitcase. "Just promise you'll write to us. Tell us about all the wondrous things you'll learn."

  Lance nodded, finding unexpected moisture in his eyes. "I will certainly try."

  When he finally descended the stairs, the entire family had assembled in the main room. His father stood tall, though Lance noticed the slight tremble in his weathered hands. His sisters formed a semicircle, faces a mixture of excitement and sorrow.

  Outside, the sound of approaching hooves announced the arrival of Professor Arclight. Through the window, Lance could see an ornate carriage unlike any that had passed through their town before—midnight blue with silver trim that seemed to shimmer with its own light.

  "It's time," his father said, the deep voice now softened.

  Lance's mother stepped forward, adjusting his collar unnecessarily. "Remember who you are," she whispered. "No matter what magics you learn."

  One by one, his sisters embraced him. When Merilyn reached him, she pressed something cold and metallic into his palm—a small brass compass. "So you can always find your way home," she said.

  His father was last, enveloping Lance in an embrace that seemed to contain all the words left unspoken between them. "I have always been proud," he said simply, and Lance knew it was true.

  The door opened, and Professor Arclight stood framed in the entrance, the bright daylight casting his face in shadow.

  "Are we ready, young scholar?" the professor asked, his smile pleasant but his eyes calculating.

  Lance hoisted his suitcase, suddenly aware of how little he was taking from his old life into his new one. "Yes, Professor."

  As they walked toward the carriage, the professor leaned close. "You've made a wise choice accepting our invitation," he said, his voice dropping to a confidential tone. "I've heard of your... experiments with dragon’s blood. Very few untrained minds even dare go near synthetizing it."

  Lance felt a chill despite the warm day. "How did you—"

  "The College is always aware of potential," Arclight interrupted, his hand firm on Lance's shoulder. "Particularly the kind that manifests in unusual ways. Your failures here will become triumphs at Aether Reach, I assure you."

  The carriage door swung open of its own accord. Inside, Lance glimpsed shelves lined with books and small glass containers that reminded him of his own collection, though these glowed with colors he had never before seen.

  Lance turned back one last time. His family stood together in front of their home, hands raised in farewell. He committed the image to memory—the place where he had always felt both cherished and somehow misunderstood.

  "Your comfort's end is where true discovery begins," Professor Arclight said, gesturing Lance inside. "Aether Reach awaits."

  As Lance stepped into the carriage, the strange sensation that had troubled him about the professor returned tenfold. Yet alongside it grew something new—a quiet determination. Whatever awaited him at Aether Reach, he would face it with the same persistence that had driven his solitary experiments all these years.

  The door closed behind him with a sound of finality, and Lance's journey truly began.